


Never Forget You

by Dreac



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:04:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6298351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreac/pseuds/Dreac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theo Raeken found himself in the worst predicament of his short life. He had come face to face with the vengeful spirit of his sister. What seems like the end for Theo, may very well be his second chance. Will he squander all that he's learned from the situation, or make use of the chance he's given? (Picks up right after the finale)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drag Me To Hell

His screams resonated in his head. The sound seeming to bounce around and continue on like a quiet echo that was haunting him. His ears rang with the high pitched squeak that his voice had become. Theo hadn’t know that it could produce such a sound. Then there was the begging, that had been beneath him. Theo Raeken begged no one for help. The sweet irony that topped it off was that the recipient of his pleas was none of than the alpha he’d tried to betray. Of course no help would come from Mccall or his pack. Theo’s mind idly slipped as the earth shook and the ground swallowed him up that maybe she - no. He wouldn’t think of her. She was with them, apart of the golden pack that did no wrong. No one would have helped. Maybe Tracy, but in hindsight, killing her hadn’t been the best of plans. He’d left no one to miss him, no one to try to save him. It had been foolish of him to think that Scott would be the one to save him, but he’d feared what his sister would do to him, what she could do to him. As the earth swallowed him up and the darkness engulfed them, all he could think about was the figure of a girl that looked almost like the one from The Grudge that Kira had claimed to be his sister. If this was true, how? How was she alive? Or maybe she wasn’t. But how could she drag him through the cracks of the earth?  
  
When they’d reached whatever their destination, everything had quieted. Theo stood, eyeing the thing that stood before him  - long, dark hair, veiling its face like a curtain. “How,” he’d asked, breathless, scared, and not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.  
  
When her voice came, it was lifeless and flat. “Why is the better question,” his sister supplied. She was standing there across from him, he couldn’t see her face, her skin was pale, practically luminous in the darkness, and it unnerved him that he couldn’t see her face. Theo had felt remorse for what he’d done. Him throwing flowers in the lake for his sister was a genuine act, and nothing close to a game. Killing her was something that he’d deemed necessary. The doctors had gotten into his head. He was nine.  
  
“I promise you that, if I could go back. If I could change things, I wouldn’t have hurt you. I wouldn’t have done this.” Her screams for help, screams for him to help her as she froze in that water still haunted him when he closed his eyes. If he ever got the opportunity to get out of this, this image of his sister would be an added nightmare. Was she supposed to be vengeful? Upset? Wasn’t she supposed to be hurting him? “I know why though. I know why you’re here. I did something cruel that will always haunt me, that I’ll always regret. I hurt you, killed you. I listened to you scream for help and I stood there and watched every agonizing second. Now you want revenge. I say get it over with because I have nothing left to lose.” Theo had tried to speak with his normal gusto, but in all reality, he wasn’t so sure of himself or of his fate. It only took a beat for it to fall. “I’m a failure. They should have killed me a long time ago.” the fact that he was indeed a failure, struck a nerve. It had when they’d said it to his face, and now that he was in some kind of after life underworld, Dante’s rings of hell type shit, it still bothered him.  
  
His sister chuckled. It was a sinister sound, yet it hadn’t sounded like it was meant to be evil, but she had no emotion in her tone, so it came off that way. “You can be redeemed,” she informed him.  
  
Theo scoffed. “What kind of vengeful spirit are you? Wanting to redeem me?” She’d always been sweet, kind, and loving towards him. She’d always looked out for him, and she always tried to protect him, even if he didn’t return the favor.  
  
“Humanity. We have to find your humanity.” His sister said simply.  
“So you brought me down here so that you can be my savior? Is saving me from myself your unfinished business?” She was a spirit of not many words  - if she was a spirit at all. She rarely answered his questions, but spoke in riddles about finding his humanity whatever that meant. His humanity died with her, and since then he’d never seen it resurface. Although sometimes he could have sworn there were glimmers with…no. It was a foolish thought, and there was no way that he was going to allow himself to travel that path. “Okay, help me find my humanity. Help me save me from me,” he agreed.  
  


* * *

  
  
It seemed almost surreal, sitting at a lunch table, laughing, talking and shooting the breeze were possible. It was as if just last week, they hadn’t been fighting to save their friends, or fighting to save their own lives. It had always amazed Malia just how easy it was that they snapped back to normal, or as normal as supernatural teenagers could be. She, however, had to do some things that she couldn’t quite get over. She had to fight her mom. She had to stand there, helplessly getting shot over and over by the woman that had given birth to her. She had to hear that she’d rather have the powers that had come with that birth over the baby itself, and she was willing to kill Malia to get them. Finally, she’d had to use those glowing blue talons to drain her mother of the remaining power that she’d had. It’d been an emotionally stressful time in that house, having to battle that woman. And now she had to sit here with her friends and snap right back to normal. That had been easy for some.  
  
Here it was again, as they sat at the lunch table, the retelling of the story of Theo being dragged to God only knows where by the spirit of his sister. Malia couldn’t help the way her eyes rolled in their sockets at how eager Stiles was to hear about it. “He got dragged to the pits of hell by the spirit of his dead sister. What’s the joy to be found in that?”  Her brows knit together as she frowned.  
  
Stiles gasped as if she were supposed to know. “It was the vengeful spirit of his sister. Vengeful makes all the difference. Means that prick’s going to suffer for all the crap he put us through.”  Sometimes when he got this hyper and excited about things, Malia found it cute, but this for some reason she hadn’t.    
“Is she going to kill him?” Malia asked Kira then. She couldn’t pinpoint why she cared, but if she had to hear the story twenty times in the course of a week, she might as well know what was going to happen to him.  
  
Kira simply shrugged. “The Skinwalkers weren’t exactly forthcoming with the plans.” That was all she had to offer, yet for some reason it wasn’t an answer that truly sufficed for Malia. On the inside she was boiling with inexplicable frustration at not knowing. There was also the war within of why she’d even cared. Theo had gained her trust, and then stripped her of it. He’d fooled her into friendship and then even with his lamenting that he didn’t want to go along with the plan of shooting her, he had anyway. Yet, Malia still found herself worrying. Maybe it was because despite everything, he could have been redeemed.  
  
The were-coyote had been lost in her thoughts once more, but quickly brought out of them. “Dude was a serial killer at an early age. He murdered his sister for her heart. I always knew he was bad news. Even in the fourth grade!” Stiles went on to say.  
  
That statement had made Malia angry. He murdered his sister, so he had to be bad news. “He’s not the only person that murdered their siblings. Does that make me one in the same?” She picked up her tray and stood. She quickly gathered her things and left the group. It was things like that that pissed her off. Things like that that made her feel like she didn’t belong. Stiles had killed someone too. He was on a high horse right now, full of smugness, and joy at being right about this one thing she wished he would just let go. Wherever Theo Raeken was, she was sure that it was no picnic.  
  
Malia left the lunchroom and then the school and didn’t look back. She just ran. The teen heard her kind of boyfriend, she didn’t know anymore whether or not they were back together, but they’d sure been acting as if they were, running after her. If she ran faster, maybe he wouldn’t catch up. That, however was not the case. Sure, he stopped chasing her, but he didn’t stop following. Rather than being on foot, he took his jeep. Knowing her better than she knew herself sometimes, he knew where she’d go - to the cave. She’d gone to the place they’d found her in coyote form. “Malia,” he called as he jumped out of the truck, running after her. Malia had walked further into her favorite spot, laying on her back with her eyes closed. She felt close to them here. “Malia, I’m sorry,” Stiles apologized.  
  
Sitting up, Malia glared at him. “Are you really? Or are you just sorry I was there to hear it?”  
  
Stiles sighed. “I’m an idiot. Sometimes, I put my foot in my mouth. I didn’t like the guy. He was an ass.  A complete and total ass. He did some much harm to the pack. He broke us a part and then turns out that my suspicions were correct. Sometimes, I need to gloat. I  just had a poor choice of words.” He tried to explain his standpoint, but still the words had come out of his mouth, and they couldn't be unheard.  “What you did and what he did isn’t the same, Malia.”  
  
“How do you know what he did wasn’t some kind of accident or mistake?” she wondered, knowing that it probably wasn’t, but she’d never heard the story.  
  
“It’s not. He did it purposely. The Dread Doctors convinced the nine year old psycho that it was what his sister wanted, and he did it,” Stiles explained. “Or at least that’s the story he told me.”  
  
“So, it wasn’t entirely his fault that he killed his sister?” she pointed out.  
  
“Why are you pushing this? Sticking up for him, after all he’s done?” Stiles came to sit beside her, genuinely wanting to understand why this was important to her.  
  
Malia shock her head. It wasn’t all that important to her, she guessed. The portion just rang home with her. “People deserve a do over sometimes. Maybe him without the influence of three crazy doctors could have been his do over. Instead, he’s probably getting tortured by his sister for something that wasn’t entirely his fault,” she reasoned. “Just makes me think. What if my mom and sister were vengeful spirits? My eyes glow blue for a reason.” Meaning she’d killed two innocent people, even if she hadn't meant to, or knew what she was doing at the time.  
  
Stiles gather her in his arms, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “They know it was an accident, and don’t worry, Malia, we’d have never let you go down a path like that. We were always meant to save you.” He kissed her forehead softly.  
  
_But who would save Theo,_ she wondered.


	2. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malia is haunted by dreams of Theo in the underworld, but are those dreams really dreams?

  
He came to her in her dreams this time. His face wore a melancholic expression, one that looked out of place on his normal, self-confident, albeit cocky features. Theo’s blond hair mussed, his cobalt eyes almost fearful. His screams to make it stop were the worst. Malia was stuck in an endless loop as she watched idly as he pleaded for death over whatever was happening to him. She’d even joined in on the screams. She could almost feel his anguish. The were-coyote woke with a start, jumping in her sleep.  “Let him go!” she screamed as she woke.  
  
A figure that lay next to her stirred, sitting up. “Malia?” Stiles asked, his brows knit as he wondered what was going on. “Let who go?” he asked, his hands reaching out to find her. Stiles pulled her into his lap. His dark hair, standing on end haphazardly in places, and his round face filling with worry. “Jeez, you’re shaking. What’s wrong? Let who go?”  
  
Could she tell him that she’d dreamed of him? Of Theo? Would he be upset? Of course he would. Theo had been the man that single handedly nearly torn their pack apart. He’d almost killed their alpha, Scott, and he’d lulled Malia into a sense of false security and shot her when she least expected it. Yes, Stiles wouldn’t approve of her dreaming of or caring for this man. Malia shook her head. “I don’t remember,” she lied. Her voice quivered and a sense of dread had overcome her that maybe this wasn’t just a dream. It felt real. She could perfectly recall the darkness that engulfed him in this place. The grudge-like figure that never left his side and the way that Theo’s face contorted as he seemed to be in some sort of pain. Whatever had been happening to him, it had brought him to his knees. It had caused this normally confident, generally unafraid of anything guy, to appear terrified of something.  
  
Malia wondered why her? Why was she the only person plagued with these images. Why hadn’t anyone else worried about the outcome of Theo being dragged to hell. It wasn’t her place, it wasn’t even like she truly cared for the man. After all he’d done, he didn’t deserve her worry. Stiles’s soft caress to her cheek took her out of her thoughts. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Just let’s lay back down. This time maybe I should be the big spoon, so that I can protect you from all this bad dream mojo you’ve got going.”  
  
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Okay, but you know how much I hate being the small spoon.” She had always felt more comfortable being the big spoon to Stiles. After all, she was the one that was more inclined to protect him than he was to protect her. Maybe he was right, though. Maybe she’d sleep better if she felt his arms around her, protecting her from her dreams.  
  
As Malia closed her eyes once more, she was hit with the same images. This time, however, there were no screams, there were no cries for help or to be released. All she heard was a faint and lifeless “she’s here”. To that, came the retort, “Who? She who? You keep talking about a she. She’s the key but who is she?” Theo had asked.  The next thing that Malia saw was the figure lift her hand to point a pale, bony finger in her direction. She turned to gaze behind her then, but there was nothing there but the darkness.  
  
“Who? Me?” she asked, her voice unsure.  
  
The figure didn’t speak to her. Didn’t say anything more, causing irritation to bubble inside of her. Why the hell would someone - something - point at someone and not elaborate. Her thoughts stopped completely when Theo turned, following the outstretched finger. His eyes bulged. “Malia?” he asked. “Did you bring her here?” His voice rose and to Malia’s ears anger sounded. “Why did you bring her here?!” The sound of his rage rang in her ears and Malia turned to run as dread settled in the pit of her stomach, planning to rise with each new word Theo spoke. She wanted to say that she would help, but how? How could she help him, and the better question of why would she help him.  
  
The run wasn’t far because her eyes snapped open and she was in her bedroom. A snoring Stiles held onto her, and she breathed easier knowing that she was safe.  
  
_What the absolute hell was happening to her_ , she wondered.  
  


* * *

  
The thing about this place was that it was impossible to tell what time it was. There was no concept of day or night, no way of telling if he'd been here for years or simply minutes. Often times in this place filled with nothingness, he would simply lie down on the cool ground beneath him, closing his eyes.  He didn't require sleep, or food and he contemplated whether or not he was actually alive. Theo began to miss feelings of hunger, the rush and satisfying release when you have to take a piss. He wanted to chuckle because he'd never thought that bodily functions would be something that he'd miss, but he did.    
  
His sister had begun her mission of torture by making him revisit his past, his kills. Every time he'd taken a life and it had started with hers. She had this way of  making every memory seem real. He was reliving them all.  
  
_There he was on the bridge overlooking the lake that his sister stood in shivering. It had been winter in California, and the nights were chillier than expected. He was doing this because they said she wanted this. They said that she wanted to give him her heart. It was the perfect act of love, or so they’d told him.  The Dread Doctors, three immortal men, that wore leather, and metal helmets, and looked like ultimate half human, half monstrous steampunk-like badasses, and they’d wanted him. Made him feel important. They’d promised him power unparalleled by anything he’d ever felt before. He’d sacrificed his sister, done what they’d told him to do  to gain her heart. The monster men had told the nine year old boy that her heart would remain viable if she died of hypothermia. It was an easy explanation for her death that she’d fallen. Theo had been the perfect candidate for their mission. Any child that was willing to take the life of his own flesh and blood with slight coercing from The Doctors, would be heir first success and greatest creation - the perfect killing machine, the perfect evil.  Theo had thought that he was doing the right thing. His sister had been a part of the plan, but it wasn’t until her scream rang in his ears, shrill and high pitched, that he began to realize that she wasn’t. Yet, the part of him that wanted all that they’d promised -the power - it had fueled him to just watch. The Doctors had made him into a chimera once his job was done - one part werewolf, one part coyote. In order to do that, he had to have two different sets of DNA. Once they’d given him the heart transplant, they could begin their work._  
  
_The next memory that his sister had shown him was the day that he’d killed his parents. His transformation was complete. The nine year old boy had become more than just a child. More than just human. He’d become a were-coyote. The last step in becoming a ruthless, coldblooded psychopath that the Dread Doctors wanted him to be was to eliminate all emotional ties to anyone. Emotions made him weak they’d told him. End his parents’ suffering, they’d instructed, and so he did.  It was almost painless. He’d done it painlessly for them, but for him the actions caused his heart to hurt. Theo had snapped his father’s neck as he slept. With the satisfying sound of a snap, he’d lost a little bit more of his humanity. For his mother, he’d smothered her in her sleep. For a long moment, Theo Raeken sat there, sobbing. There was no one left that truly loved him, and his ability to love died with the three members of the family he’d killed._  
  
Theo in the here and now could feel the tug of his long dormant emotions clawing to resurface. He had loved his sister, had loved his parents, but he thought that this was all a part of a bigger plan. One that  he thought would lead him to a life of power, but instead, it lead him to a life with no friends, no loved ones, only three doctors trying to make the perfect evil - which they’d later figured out wasn’t him.  Of course they’d allowed him to start a quest for a pack, or to take Scott Mccall’s pack, but still he had failed, and this is where it had gotten him.  
  
During these times of self reflective journeys that his sister had taken him on, she rarely talked, and the first time in what seemed like eternity that she had spoken, it was when she’d told him that someone would help to redeem him. “She can save you,” his sister said almost quietly. Her voice, although without emotion seemed to be no more than a whisper.  “She’s here.”  Her finger had outstretch pointing behind him. She’d dragged someone else to hell?    
  
“She who? Who is she?” he asked her, confusion written all over his face. When he turned, the last person he thought he’d see was standing just a few feet from him.  
  
“Who? Me?” she asked, her voice soft, sending a jolt through his system. That jolt made him feel as though he was more than just a spirit. More than just in a purgatory like place.  Just the sight of her unnerved Theo.  His sister had crossed a line, bringing Malia Tate here. It had caused anger to bubble within him.  
  
“Malia?” he asked, knowing that yes it was her. He’d know here anywhere. Her short, chin length brown hair, pulled back from her face and tucked behind her ears. She was wearing pajamas. Her aqua colored tank top clinging to her, and her blue plaid pajama bottoms riding low on her hips, causing just a slither of skin to peek out. Theo found himself taking in every feature of her for an immeasurable amount of time. She was shaking. Her body couldn’t have been cold, or maybe it was. He felt nothing here. She could possibly have been scared. That thought caused white, hot rage to flare within him. It came as a quick outburst. “Did you bring her here?” he yelled, turning to the faceless figure of his sister’s spirit. “Why did you bring her here?”  When he turned back to where Malia had been standing, she was gone. “Don’t you ever bring her here again,” he threatened. She had did nothing to deserve the underworld. Malia Tate was not his redemption. She was nothing to him, or so he told himself.  
  
“She is safe in bed. Her spirit was here. She comes to us in her dreams. She dreams of you. I don’t wish to hurt her. She can save you,” the figure repeated before growing quiet once more.


	3. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Malia and Theo speak after countless visits without a word.

How did she let them talk her into this? Shopping. It was one of her least favorite activities. Malia could recall the first time she’d gone shopping perfectly. It had been with Lydia. She’d spent her formative childhood years in coyote form. After the fatal car accident that had killed her adoptive mother and sister, Malia Tate being the culprit as her transformation had been uncontrollable and the deaths of her family purely accidental. The pain had kept her from transforming back, or even wanting to. The fact of the matter was that she didn’t even truly know how to transform back into her human form, that was until Scott came, helping her back into human form. Then there was the issue of clothing, which she didn’t have, and her father was at a loss for how to shop for a teenager.  Scott, the alpha, - who Malia had wondered how anyone could find him threatening with his sweet face, and dimpled smile - had suggested his friend Lydia take her shopping. 

 

Lydia, with her flowing red mane, and her near perfect porcelain skin had been an absolute whirlwind of words, and it had already taken Malia quite a while to adjust to speaking again, to understanding things like idioms, and turns of phrase. Yet here she was in a car, which was a feat in itself after the accident all those years ago, with this near genius woman, speaking using large words at a rapid pace. That experience had been absolutely horrible for Malia. Trying on clothes, over and over. It had felt like a chore. 

 

Now, here she was, under different circumstances with Lydia and Kira at the mall. Malia had been feeling quite off lately, plagued with nightmares each and every night. Those nightmares were always filled with dreams of Theo. Dreams that sent a chill down her spine as if she was in a cold, dark, desolate place that had currently held him. Each time, he simply stared at her, never moving from his spot, never speaking, and then she was gone back to her bed, comfortably sleeping the rest of the night through. It was exhausting, as if she were actually somewhere else, when in reality she had always been home. 

 

“Hello, Earth to Tate,” Lydia said, waving a hand in front of Malia’s face. 

 

The stunning beauty and half Korean, half Japanese teen, Kira Yukimura laughed. To which Malia rolled her eyes. “What’s been up with you? Sleeping in class, sleeping during movie night with the girls, zoning out during shopping? What’s going on with you?” Kira asked. 

 

Malia just shook her head. She had yet to tell her friends of her dreams, the ones that always kept her up at night. She didn’t even tell Stiles, and most nights he was there with her, holding her, hoping to keep her from waking in fear or a cold sweat. The action was futile, seeing as regardless, she kept having the same dream repeatedly. 

 

“Is Stiles keeping you up?” Kira asked with a cheeky grin. The normally bashful girl at times was coming into her own with the group, especially when she was with the girls. 

 

Malia noticed how Lydia quieted and didn’t comment on that particular portion of the conversation. For a girl that always had something to say, she grew fairly quiet at the mention of Stiles. “Oh...no. Not that,” Malia answered finally. “We’re taking things slow. We haven’t even exactly said we were back together. He just...spends the night sometimes, and vice versa for me. That’s definitely not happening. Just because you and Scott…” 

 

Lydia lifted her hands then, stopping whatever Malia was about to say. “Please don’t finish that sentence.” 

 

Laughing, Malia agreed, “Fine, I won’t.” She sent a wink Kira’s way, to which the she blushed. 

 

The girls had gone into shop after shop, it was as if they both got together and decided to torture Malia today, forcing her to try on her clothes and then the worst of all, a prom dress. They’d waited until they got to the mall to announce that in order to fully be “normal” they’d all attend the senior prom this year.  As she exited the dressing room, in a dress that wasn’t her style, Lydia brought back the conversation from earlier. “You never said what was going on with you, and don’t say nothing. You forget I’m a banshee, I know things.”

 

Brown eyes rolled in their sockets as Malia heard this. She knew for sure that it wasn’t true. That just because she was indeed a banshee, didn’t mean she knew what was going on with Malia. “I thought that you predicted things like death and heard voices. I’m pretty sure the voices have better things to do than to talk about what I spend my time doing,” she added, calling Lydia’s bluff. “I’m going to go take off this god awful dress.” It wasn’t horrible, just not her style, too frilly. 

 

As soon as she walked into the dressing room, she felt herself growing dizzy. The feeling was overwhelming and completely taking her off guard. Malia lost her footing and stumbled over clothing. As she went down, her vision faltered, seeing only darkness. She yelped just before going still. 

 

Suddenly she was cold, freezing and her vision had returned. It was happening again, except this time she hadn’t been dreaming. She had been wide awake. It was almost like a forced dream state. Instead of just staring at Theo, she actually spoke. “Why am I here?” 

 

* * *

  
  


Theo hadn’t known how long he’d been there. Time, it was that concept again that evaded him, but he figured that it was night every time Malia visited him. It had become an every night thing. He’d seen her every night for what seemed like two weeks now, which meant that he’d been in this place for maybe three. Constantly, he relived his past. He’d seen each of the horrible things he’d done, over and over again. He’d been able to pick apart the exact moments that his decision making was altered. He realized that completely blaming the Dread Doctors for everything he’d done was wrong. He was to blame, just as much as they were, but his reward after these pensive moments was Malia.  

 

He never spoke a word to her, but just seeing her face for a time was enough for him. It wasn’t that he had feelings for her, it was that she was the only person connected to his world here somehow. Seeing her made him feel as if he weren’t going crazy. Maybe he wasn’t losing his mind after all. Seeing her, made him feel as if he were actually going to get the opportunity to rejoin the world that she belonged to. 

 

This time, however, she’d come to him on purpose. Or rather on purpose against her will. Theo’s sister had told him how to conjure Malia to this place. It had to be the person that had a strong connection to him, and thus far it had only been Malia. If he thought of her, really concentrated on her, she would come. The first time it had been his sister bringing her to him. After that, it had been Malia, thinking of him before sleep and in her subconscious mind that had brought her to him. This time it was Theo. His sister, had left him. Sometimes she did that. Sometimes she left him alone. This time, when he had the opportunity, he’d thought of her called her forth to his world. 

 

“Why am I here?” She’d asked. 

 

“Sometimes when you’re sleeping you think of me, and you arrive. Sometimes my sister brings you here. This time, it was me,” he asked simply. 

 

“I wasn’t sleeping, you jerk. I was shopping. Now I’m on the floor in the dressing room, or at least I was.” She looked down at herself, still wearing the frilly dress. 

 

Theo smirked, even let out a chuckle, which sounded quite foreign to him. “Nice dress. What is it? Prom or something?” He wondered.  It sounded about right. School should almost have been done, so prom was yet to come. 

 

Malia rolled her eyes once more. “Unfortunately. Am I really here?” 

 

“No. Just your spirit. I’m here, mind, body and everything, but you’re not. You’re probably still on that floor in the dressing room,” he sufficed. 

 

“Why am I here?” She asked once more, annoyance in her tone. 

 

Theo simply shrugged. Why was she here? “I got bored,” he stated, which had been sort of true. 

 

“Gee, all of this nothingness, who would have thought. Shouldn’t you be working on...something?” She didn’t know what, but he was here for a reason, and that reason was definitely not bringing her here to speak to him. 

 

“I do that. Work on things every second practically. I wanted to talk to someone for a changed, believe it or not. And I suppose since you’re the only one that seems to be able to come here, tag, you’re it.” Maybe it had been selfish to bring her here, but whatever. He was working on redemption not his selfishness. That would be another battle for another day. “Is that the dress you’re wearing? Didn’t take you for a frills kinda girl.” 

 

Malia looked down at the bubble gum pink dress that she was currently wearing. It was poufy, and had many layers of useless fabric. “Joy, yay me.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah? What kind of girl do you take me for?” 

 

“One that would rather wear a dress that was more form fitting.” Theo walked closer to her. “One with more skin showing or a plunging neckline.” As he spoke the latter, he touched her, drawing the deep V of a plunging neckline and  causing her to gasp as his eyes widened. She could feel his touch and he could feel her soft skin underneath his finger tip. He hadn’t moonlit as a fashion designer, but he knew what he’d want to see her in, what would look good on her. There it was again, that selfishness. 

 

She straightened, taking a step back from him all of a sudden. “I might try to look for something like that.” 

 

“When you do, will you show me?” He didn’t know what compelled him to ask, and she didn’t know why she’d nodded in agreement but she did. He was about to let her return to her place in the here and now, when he blurted out. “You’re the key, Malia. She said that you help me, but only if you want to.” He threw in that last part for himself. Maybe he was starting to change, giving her the option to help him or not. Not demanding that she does.  

 

Theo had enjoyed their few minutes of conversation. It wasn’t the most pleasant, nor the most warm of conversations, but it was conversation no less. 

 

* * *

 

“Malia! Tate!” Lydia was speaking frantically next to her ear as she shook her. Malia’s eyes opened and she frowned as Lydia came into focus and Kira standing over her in the small dressing room. “Oh thank God. When you didn’t come out we knew something was wrong. What happened?” 

 

A frown creased her brows. “I fainted, I guess? I’m okay,” she lied about the fainting. She was okay, but she knew why she was on the floor in dream land. “Maybe I need to eat. Let’s pick up here after food?” She asked, sitting up finally before getting to her feet. She knew that the ladies would press the issue, but for now, eating was going to be the best excuse she could come up with. 


	4. Slow Dancing in a Burning Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo helps Malia prom dress shop in a way that surprised even him.

“Tate,” Theo sighed, shaking his head at her. He was disappointed as she’d popped back into this purgatory, or hell whatever it may be in yet another hideous dress. 

Her face fell then. “You hate it,” she stated, knowing that he did. He’d hated the last three, and she didn’t know why she was doing this. Why she’d gone through the trouble of waiting until Kira nor Lydia were with her to show Theo dresses. She’d gotten better at being able to come and go at will from her world to his. All it took was heavy concentration on her part. 

“Of course I hate it, you hate it too, or you should. Is this prom or a royal wedding? Stilinski isn’t that hot a date to even go through all of this turmoil. How’d you even get in that thing?” He’d asked. It looked like one of those dresses that one would only see in the history books. Back then, they were prestigious and all the rage. Now, however, they seemed to be just a little much. Just as she was about to pop back out, he stopped her. “Are those shoulder pads? Tate, come back in something a little more...modern?” 

Theo waited patiently to see what else Malia had to show. He couldn’t believe that this was what he was doing. He was helping Malia Tate pick out a prom dress, which she was going to wear on her date with someone else. He’d never get to see her in the dress unless she decided at some point to pop in. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t, though. It was her night of fun, showing him the dress wasn’t that important. When she’d returned, he hadn’t even had the chance to say anything. His face said it all as his features scrunched at the teal dress she now wore, making her look like she was auditioning to be the America’s Next Top Mermaid. 

Malia growled. “Why don’t you like this one?” she asked, her shoulders sagging in defeat. 

“The better question here is why do you like it? Can you see it? Do you need glasses? I thought that being a were-coyote meant you had no afflictions.” Maybe he was being a little harsh, but the dress was ugly as fuck. 

“You’re insufferable.” Her eyes rolled in their sockets. 

“And yet here you are, asking me for help. What? Lydia and Kira’s choices less than desirable?” He knew they were, he’d seen those too. 

“Shut it, Raeken. I asked for your opinion, not for you to make fun of my friends’ style in clothing.” She knew he was right though. She felt like a hopeless case when it came to prom dresses. Prom was stupid anyway. It wasn’t like she was going to have any fun. She didn’t really see the point of getting all dressed up, having a dance. Then there’s a stupid popularity contest that Lydia would no doubt win being prom queen, and then people all paired up went their separate ways and made bad decisions for the night. “I wish that I could just take you with me. It’d be so much easier to pick out a dress then!”   
A thought had come to her then. If she could will herself between worlds, just her spirit, then maybe his spirit could come with her. “Give me your hand,” she demanded. 

Theo raised a brow, but held out his hand to her. Malia closed her eyes, she honed in on where her body laid in a dressing room. That was how she passed between worlds. It was as if she had a connection to that world, to Theo, so he tethered her there, and of course she was tethered to the here and now as well. Instead of just thinking about herself, she thought of Theo, she imagined him in the dressing room with her. Malia honed in all of her concentration on that single thought. Her head spun, feeling the familiar lightheadedness that accompanied her travels. When she opened her eyes in the dressing room, her hand was still holding something. She was still holding Theo’s hand. He was standing in the room with her. She looked into the mirror at her reflection, and it showed the both of them. He wasn’t just a spirit he was there. A smile formed on her face, and instead of Theo being astonished that she’d brought him here, he said, “Malia, you’re bleeding.” Her nose, one of her ears. His brows creased. “You can’t do that again. There’s a price to pay, and your life for mine isn't worth it. Wait here.” 

Malia felt fine, nothing out of the ordinary had truly happened, no pain. Yet she was bleeding as if she had ruptured something. She’d taken off the dress as she waited for Theo to return. Just as she was pulling her shirt over her head, Theo had returned. He hadn’t knocked but she did notice that he looked down as he entered. She would have figured him for the openly gawking type, and then there would have been a smirk occupying his face, except that this time there wasn’t. He wore a concerned expression as he held up a wad of tissues. Malia held out her hand but he’d ignored it, cleaning the blood away himself. “How long can you stay?” she asked. 

“Until you start the bleeds again. I’m not truly free until my sister sees fit that I am. Maybe her allowing this is a test, but she trusts you. She doesn’t trust me, but I’m not feeling particularly murderous today,” he joked. 

“Please, if you go all serial killer, that blood is on my hands. I did this, so I’m trusting you too.” Perhaps trusting Theo was the wrong thing to do. Maybe all of this was the wrong thing to do. Had any of her friends seen her, she’d be in deep shit right about now, but as much as she hated to admit it, she enjoyed spending time with Theo. 

“Scouts honor, I’ll be good,” he held up a hand to vow. 

“Have you ever been a scout?” She asked, knowing that if the answer was no, that vow wouldn’t mean a thing. 

“Scouting for a pack to take over?” Both brows raised and he smiled, knowing that didn’t count. 

“I’m doomed,” Malia mumbled as she led him toward the rows of dresses that she could afford. 

There wasn’t much to choose from, but Theo understood that she had to work with what she could. But the least he could do was help her with that choice so that she was as beautiful as possible for the ridiculous event. He’d found the less frilly section and was relieved. For a while, he felt like Malia was trying to bring the 80’s back, and he just couldn't have that. 

“So, tell me about your parents,” Malia said out of the blue.

The request caused Theo to frown. No one ever asked about them unless they were accusing him of murder. “Which set? I murdered both.” He’d said it so easily, without an ounce of remorse, but he was learning to leave what he couldn't change in the past and change what he could. 

Malia tried not to show shock but failed miserably at the task. “W-what? Why?” she sputtered. 

“They were great parents. Loving, caring, and I was mom’s favorite. I got away with everything.” He smiled sadly, but fondly at the memory. “I always rubbed it in my sister’s face too.” As he spoke he busied himself looking at dresses. The infamous smirk came. “If you think I'm an asshole now you should have seen toddler and elementary Theo. I wasn't evil, or murderous but Stiles could tell that I wasn't all sugar and spice. The Dread Doctors too. It's why they chose me. They saw a spark that they could mold. After they told me to kill my sister, that she would like me to have her heart, my parents just sort of checked out. Understandable because their daughter had died. And their son had witnessed it. Of course to mold me, they needed all family ties out of the way, so they told me to end their suffering, that their grief was too much to bear and they just wanted to end it all, but they were scared. So I did it for them while they slept. No one suffered it was swift. And my humanity left me then too.” He pulled out a dark blue wrap dress that wasn't very prom appropriate but would look good on Malia. She'd be so engrossed in his story he had to rattle the hanger to get her attention. 

She took the dress, and surprisingly his hand and moved to the dressing rooms. “So you're not as big and bad as they say?”

Theo chuckled, following her into the dressing room. “I am actually, I still killed people and my eye color is just a part of the deception. Don't let yourself fall into a false sense of security. I'm the person who did all those bad things and then some. I'm not trustworthy, but I also don't wake up wondering who I should kill today. There was a method and people pulling the strings.” 

Malia listened staying deathly quiet as she tried to figure out the logistics of the dress. Theo sighed, untying the side and unbuttoning the inner button. It literally opened like a robe. He turned as she directed with her fingers so that she could get into it. “But would you have killed them if tiny you knew what you know now?” 

“My parents? No. Other people? In a heartbeat. “Killed my fake dad and mom because they couldn't get the story right or follow directions. They knew too much and I grew tired of their nervous slips and constant shaky demeanors. Killed most of my pack for the power, that wasn't on the Dread Doctors’ agenda. I wanted power but not the pack. I wanted Scott’s pack,” he explained. 

“You can turn around. But I think you search for and longing for a pack because you want to belong. Sure you want to lead but you also want to belong. I'm the same way.” Malia had been a lone coyote, but once she had a pack, she longed for that feeling of belonging to the group, that close knit sense of family that she had within the group. 

Theo rolled his eyes when he turned around. “You’re trying to psychoanalyze a psycho. Don’t. It was simple. I wanted the power that came with having a pack. That’s always been my motivation.” She was entirely too close to the truth, and Theo wasn’t ready to completely bear his soul to this girl. Besides sharing only occurred on his end. Malia hadn’t been forthcoming about her past. “Don’t go looking for something that you won’t find. Not everyone can go from Void Stiles, or hotheaded were-coyote to sunshine and rainbows.” Yeah it was harsh, and maybe he hadn’t meant to say it, but he didn’t want Malia to get her hopes up. He’d turned around right after he’d said it and walked right into her fist meeting his face. 

“Yeah, you deserved that. Trust me. I’m not afraid to hit you when you’re being an ass. What’s the matter, Theo? Too real for you?” she asked. He wasn’t expecting her to completely rise to the challenge, but then again she was the were-coyote that he’d wanted in his pack. She had a fire in her that was always dormant in Mccall’s lame pack. Sure he didn’t care for having a pack or well ruling one now, but still Malia was truly fiery. 

Theo smirked, wiping blood that she’d drawn with that punch from the corner of his mouth. “Fiery. I like it. “ 

“Don’t care if you like it or not. What about the dress?” She held her hands out at sides, still scowling at him, clearly upset with what he’d said to her.

He took in her expression, the way her face transformed, the serious mask that she wore was something that he liked seeing. Pissed off Malia brought a smirk to his face. “The dress is nice. You in it...well that's a different story.” 

Before Theo had the opportunity to elaborate, Malia interrupted, “Oh yeah? What's wrong with me in it?” A frown creased her brows as she spoke ready to take offense even when he hadn't said anything out of the way yet. 

“Nothing's wrong with you in it. You're beautiful as fuck in it to be honest,” he shared with a shrug. Of course she was beautiful. She always had been. And sure he wanted to manipulate her into trusting him before but her beauty had never been lost on him. 

Malia’s mouth opened and closed a few times, not expecting that to be what he would say. Heat rose in her cheeks causing them to turn a light shade of pink. “Stop it with the stupid smirking,” she said finally. “I'll get this one.” 

Theo simply followed her to the counter and watched as she made a detour. His brow rose and he wondered where she was going and what was running through her mind until she was holding out a tux to him. “Try it on,” she urged. 

He frowned, not understanding her logic. “Why? I’m not going to prom. I’m going straight back to hell. I get to hear all the details later though, if you come tell me.” 

Malia pouted. “Just please?” She just wanted to see what he’d look like if he had come to prom with her, and maybe give him a sense of it so he wouldn’t feel as left out, now that he was stuck in hell or something like it. Sure Theo was an asshole, but there were times when she saw nonjerk qualities within him. In those times, she didn’t feel like that person should be stuck in hell. She felt that he should be allowed a second chance. 

Theo didn’t like the pouts, he didn’t like seeing her face make that face. The face with the corners of her beautiful lips downturned, and her pretty eyes taking on a sad turn. It was like he could literally feel his resolve crumbling. “Fine.” He went into the dressing room, quickly putting on the suit. It felt good to be wearing something different. To not be in the same thing, to feel his body and the fabric of this suit against him. He’d began to appreciate his senses. Sure he could feel things in hell, but it was different than his actually being in the real world. Everything felt magnified. 

He walked out of the dressing room, but couldn’t find Malia. Theo closed his eyes, training his ear to block out the noise and only focus in on one heartbeat. He’d found it a few doors down. Just as soon as he approached, she opened the dressing room door, holding out a hand to pull him into the small space with her. “Malia, what are you doing?” She’d put the dress back on. 

There was music lowly playing on her phone. “You don’t get to go to prom, so I’m bringing it to you. So, Theo, can I have this dance?” Malia asked, holding out her hand to him. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “I don’t dance. Any kind of dancing. I might step on your toes.” 

Malia’s eyes rolled at his excuses. “I’ll heal. Dance with me,” she insisted. 

Reluctantly, he took her hand, his other wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer. Theo swayed to the sound of the music playing. He hadn’t known the song, but he’d commit it to memory. It sounded like some Adele song. His thoughts were hushed when Malia rested her head on his shoulder. Neither of them were wearing shoes, and they were dressed in these elaborate clothes, slow dancing in a dressing room. The image of them Theo caught as he looked in the floor length mirror in the room made him smile. In another life, maybe this could have been his life. Theo getting the girl and the life he wanted, but life hadn’t been that way and he only had himself to blame for that. He did appreciate what Malia was trying to do though. Another fleeting glance in the mirror and he caught her smile. But he also caught something else. Her nose was bleeding. He’d been there too long. 

“You have to send me back now,” Theo’s voice was even, calm and quiet. 

Malia lifted her head, looking at him with almost an air of confusion, until she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She didn’t argue or put up a fight. She simply, rested her head on his shoulder once more. Her eyes closed, and she concentrated on the purgatory like place that she’d often visited. They were back, and so was his sister. “Thank you, Malia,” Theo said. It wasn’t lost on him that she’d given him a dance. That he’d otherwise never get. She gave one fleeting smile before she returned to her body. 

The female were-coyote opened her eyes on the floor of the dressing room. The music still playing. She chuckled to herself at the fact that she’d gotten big, bad, Theo Raeken to dance with her. He might miss prom, but at least he’d gotten a dance. Changing out of her clothes, she realized that his were still in the other dressing room. She’d collected them for him. She’d wash them and return them. Or at least the jeans. She might keep the shirt. A frown creased her brows. Why would she want his shirt? Malia shook her head, not sure about her actions as of late. She paid for the dress and left the store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! I'd love to hear what you thought of it! This one took a while to write with finals and work going on. Now it's summer and I'm hoping chapters will be coming much quicker! Thank you all for reading, leaving kudos and even letting me know your thoughts!


End file.
